Sons of Cuba: fighting for survival - and Fidel

Sons of Cuba is a moving documentary which reveals the sacrifices young Cubans
will make for their dreams.

'We are fighters in all walks of life. Ours is a small country – we live to fight.” It was reading these words, spoken by a young Cuban boxer who had just defeated British lightweight Amir Khan at the 2004 Olympics, that inspired British director Andrew Lang to make his award-winning documentary Sons of Cuba. Released this week, and with an appeal way beyond the world of boxing, it’s as moving and insightful a film as you’ll see this year.

Lang, 29, gained unprecedented access to the world of state-run Cuban sport to show the disappointments and triumphs of a tightly knit group of 11 year-olds at a boxing academy in Havana. His film illuminates a system that for decades has produced sportsmen like that winning boxer, Mario Kindelán, and artists such as dancer Carlos Acosta, figures who defy their country’s status as a tiny, impoverished island to achieve excellence on the international stage.

The Olympic boxers and world-famous dancers are the ultimate products of an intense regime of training and competition that dominates the lives of the many young Cubans who see sport and the arts as a route out of poverty. While some of the subjects of Sons of Cuba may go on to represent their country, the majority will not make the grade; a fact that adds to the film’s poignancy. Over their successes and failures, and the film itself, presides the inescapable figure of Fidel Castro, the ageing dictator who sometimes styles himself as the Champion of Champions.

“I thought boxing might be a good way to look at the fight for survival in Cuba,” says Lang, who spent three periods living in Cuba between 2005 and 2007. At first, he considered following a 17 year-old boxer on the verge of making it into the national team, but then found out the process of training started much earlier. The youth of his subjects gave them an unquestioning attitude to the regime. “They’re kind of brainwashed,” Lang says. “If they had been just a year or two older, they would have started to question the official line.”

The young boxers’ days begin with a 4am training session. An initial trip to the boxing academy saw Lang take up an invitation to spend the night on one of their bunks so he could witness the early start seen in the film’s opening scene. The sight of the skinny, muscular students putting together dizzying combinations of punches while shouting Communist slogans into the morning darkness is mesmerising, giving meaning to the instruction we hear Castro’s disembodied voice announce over the opening sequence: “The revolution must concentrate on sport.”

The access Lang obtained to this largely hidden world is one of many impressive aspects of his film. “We said that I was just an observer and my Cuban fixer was the director,” he explains, when asked about the official obstacles he faced. “All the crew were Cuban and we made the whole thing as Cuban as possible,” he says. “My fixers persuaded the authorities that we didn’t need a minder — they just had to report in every two weeks.” And Lang was savvy in his approach to dealing with authority: “The film was called 'Champions of the future’ on the proposal.”

Sons of Cuba follows the progress of three of these “champions” towards a national competition. The dedication of the students and their coaches, and the good humour and warmth they display towards each other is inspirational. But the admiration one feels for the Spartan training regime and their uncomplaining nature is tempered by discomfort at the hardship these young children face: their diet is restricted in a bid to keep them at their fighting weights.

“There were moments when we were filming where I was really worried about the kids,” Lang says. The competition to succeed is intense. In the moving scene when the team is announced for the intercity competition which marks the climax of the film, all but a few of them are excluded. “We had tears in our eyes when we were filming that. You see all these little boys, they’ve been away from their parents, been through all this hardship and then it hadn’t come off. It’s desperately disappointing at that age.”

Successful or not, the children at the academy have sacrificed part of their childhoods in pursuit of their dream. This sacrifice reflects the wider ideals of the revolution and its impact on all Cubans, Lang says. “You sacrifice today and you get something tomorrow.” The young fighters are conscious of a patriotic duty as well as their personal ambitions. Their unquestioning acceptance of Communism and Cuban nationalism makes the film a fascinating prism through which to view life in Castro’s socialist state, which today seems as ailing as Fidel himself. “It’s questionable whether the sacrifices Cubans have made have been worth it,” the director says.

Like another great boxing documentary, When We Were Kings, which follows the build up to Foreman and Ali’s Rumble in The Jungle, Sons of Cuba combines the drama of mano a mano competition with a wider focus. Apart from some fiercely contested fights, one of the film’s most dramatic moments occurs when the whole country grinds to a halt to hear a state broadcast — it seems likely that it will be the announcement of the president’s death. In fact, it’s about the transfer of power to his brother Raul, but the sense of a nation holding its breath conveys just how large Castro still looms in Cuban life.

Castro’s death might herald a less authoritarian state, but it could also make it difficult to maintain the system of academies and competitions that are central to Sons of Cuba. Lang says a recent trip to the country has left him despondent about the impact of the economic crisis on Cuba: “Things have got worse and there’s the sense that until Castro does die, nothing will change.” But the spirit and camaraderie captured in the movie cast a more positive light on his legacy. As Lang says: “There is an extraordinary sense of solidarity thoughout Cuba, and more than in any other part of society where you feel it most strongly is in the boxing academy.”

'Sons of Cuba’ is at the ICA, London SW1 (020 7930 3647) from March 18 and will be at selected UK cinemas from March 30.